A House Elf In Middle Earth!
by MizMalfoy
Summary: What would happen if Dobby (from Harry Potter) met up with Smeagol...?
1. Default Chapter

Prolouge  
  
Humming off-key to himself, Dobby sat down with a new buncle of yarn and his knitting pins, which were way too big for the house elf-they had been designed for humans. But tonight, something was different. Dobby had found a peculiar shaped package by his sleeping mat. Resting the elongated box on his knees, Dobby's eyes grew wider as he ripped off the paper. It looked rather like a wand box. "Oh, no, no, no. Dobby's not supposed to have one of these." he whispered to himself, glancing around. Lifting carefully at the lid, he took a peek. "A. crochet hook? Fun!" Grasping the hook by the handle, he pulled it out, eagerly beginning to examine his new toy. It was only a minute before Dobby felt the sudden gut-wrenching tug, his last shriek fading away in the empty kitchen.  
  
* * *  
  
Times were happy in Middle-Earth. Sauron was dead, for good this time, and the Ring destroyed. And there was one little hobbit that was especially pleased. "I gots it! I gots it! Another fish for Smeagol!" Smeagol leaped onto the bank, taking his prize with him. Gollum had died with the Ring, and Smeagol had retired to a little old cave near a stream-with a steady supply of new fish and other 'delicacies'. Scrambling into the semi-darkness of his cave, the hobbit grabbed a nearby rock and tore at the salmon clutched in his grasp. "Yummy." THUMP! CRASH! 


	2. Chapter 2

"Ow!" The little house elf yelped as he banged down onto hard stone - where there had been a soft chair just a second ago. Rubbing his elbow, he sat up slowly. The walls were stone - smooth stone, with no cracks, and no corners. "Dobby is in a cave. Dobby has touched a portkey. Dobby not supposed to have a portkey. Bad Dobby, bad Dobby!" After smacking his head down on the stone floor several times, he became aware of a pair of big eyes staring at him from inside the darkness deeper within the cave.  
  
THUMP! CRASH!  
  
"Whats it? Whats is that noise? Whats disturbs Smeogol's cave?" Stone suspended in his hand, ready to rip open the fish, he paused and looked around. He heard scruffles and mutters coming around the bend. He creeped around the turn in the cave, staring out at a creature hitting his head upon the floor in a rather peculiar manner. A creature that looked more like Smeagol than any other he'd ever come across.  
Staring back, Dobby backed up slowly. "Hello? Who are you?"  
  
As the big eyes came forward slowly, evolving into a creature almost like himself - only without the ears and the way of walking - Dobby rephrased his question. "What are you?"  
  
"Smeagol. I is Smeagol. A. A. I once was a hobbit. Whats is you? Whos is you?" As he spoke, the. once-hobbit pulled himself forward, until he was almost close enough to touch. Reaching out a hand, he realized it still had the fish in it. Smiling, he looked at it. "You wants a fish? Nice fresh fish? I caughts it with my own hands!" Looking gleefully on the hobbit, he offered it to him.  
  
Looking at the fish being held out, Dobby stared. People didn't just *give* things to Dobby, except for the magnificent Harry Potter - but Harry Potter was to be adored like none other. "Surely you wouldn't offer something to Dobby! Thank you! Where's your fire? I'll cook it up right good! Do you have any spices?" Getting excited now that he was in his element once again, Dobby remembered the questions asked of him. "I'm a house-elf. My name is Dobby."  
  
"Cooks it? You wants to cooks it? Why you want to cooks it? Its is good!" Smeagol looked confusedly on the. house-elf. People were always wanting to cooks things.  
  
"Cooking is what you do to food." Dobby trailed off. He'd never met someone who didn't want his food cooked. Suddenly he got an idea. "Do you have more fish? I can cook that, and you can have your fish. raw."  
  
"Mores fish? We cans catch it! Right outside - is stream. Lots of fish - big, fresh fishies!"  
  
"Okay!"  
  
So together, they went outside and caught some fish for dinner - Dobby's cooked, Smeagol's raw, as they liked it. And they sat together long into the night, sharing stories of their lands.  
A/N: Do you like it? Should that be the end or TBC? Please review! I want to thank all of you who reviewed my first attempt at this story - It's what convinced me to finally write more! If people review and want more, I promise I'll be quicker to update it from now on. Thanks! And read my other stories at fictionpress.net and tell me what you think! 


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